


How The Hale House Fire 2.0 was Almost a Thing and Stiles Wasn't Even Directly Involved

by Saerus2665



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Everyone's in College Now, M/M, Multi, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Polyamorous Pack, Thanksgiving, Turduckens are involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saerus2665/pseuds/Saerus2665
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles just wants to celebrate friendsgiving, but Derek has a receipt for 17 turduckens, and everyone has to make a mental note that drunk Stiles has even worse ideas than sober Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How The Hale House Fire 2.0 was Almost a Thing and Stiles Wasn't Even Directly Involved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quentonomorph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentonomorph/gifts).



> A birthday gift for the lovely DFDW.tumblr.com

Maybe it's the way Stiles gasped when he sees the turkey. It's all a pretty adorable happening. He’d just been in the midst of a lovely spiel about something to do with school, that in truth, despite their werewolf hearing, absolutely none of the pack had been intently listening to because it was 12 at night and they were covering the last few aisle at a 24 hour grocery stores ending an impromptu grocery trip because Derek is apparently against having food in the house and they all may or may not be a little drunk. 

A little werewolf drunk. 

And if they were werewolf drunk, well, that sets Stiles at the bar of being really fucking drunk.

But despite his wastedness, and their tipsiness, and all of their desire to “just get some fucking pizza rolls and get out of here”, they all fall silent around Stiles the moment he does that little small gasp thing standing in the middle of the aisle... staring at…..

“Scott…” Stiles says and begins to repeatedly knock his hand against Scott’s chest. “Scott, look. Scott. Scott look”

Derek looks up tiredly from throwing a couple bags of frozen vegetables into the cart "what is it Stiles?" He bats Erica’s hand away when she tries to grab the vegetables back out.

“Yeah, Stiles what? Little Timmy fell down the well again?” Erica teases and then immediately hisses when Derek once again hits her hand away from his damn vegetables. 

Scott clumsily bats Stiles’ hand off and away of him, and then does it again, and then finally he just has to reach down and grab the thing in his own to get it to finally stop hitting him in the chest. Stiles, with his other hand, thankfully does not start hitting Scott, instead he points down the aisle, at a bin. A bin of...

“Turkeys?” Boyd as flatly, glancing down the aisle, then back at Stiles. 

“No…” Stiles whispers reverently. He clutches his hand up to his chest and everyone’s looking at him; it's all really dramatic looking. “No...Turduckens.” He starts walking towards the bin, pulling Scott with him, and the pack kind of just follows because they may be werewolves, the lot of them, but they’re all too tired and still slightly drunk to really realize that following Stiles down this aisle is probably a stupid idea…

“The unholy crossing of game birds and science” Stiles said, slowly, reverently. He approached the bin of frozen...birds? 

“No more How To Train Your Dragon for you” Scott murmurs from next to him.

“Seriously, he’s watched it like, seven times tonight ” Erica agrees once she's finished taking full advantage of Derek’s distraction to pull the vegetables from the cart again and stow them on a nonchalant display of frozen fish fingers. Boyd’s watching her from just behind, smirking to himself and Isaac is too and he looks torn between going with it and telling Derek.

'Don't be a little bitch' Erica mouths to him just as Derek says: “Stiles, can we go home-”, running a hand through his hair and trying not to sound short tempered because he apparently he “Really needs to work on not sounding like a dick all the time, Sourwolf.”

Stiles picks one of the Turduckens out from the basket and promptly drops it into Scott’s hands. Then he picks up another. 

“Stiles why do we need seventeen...Turduckens?” Isaac speaks up after Stiles has unloaded literally all the remaining turduckens in the wire basket and fit as many as he could in the cart and handed the rest clumsily off the wolves. 

“Because tomorrow” His throat catches, and he briefly looks like he’s going to throw up, which is literally zero surprise because of how much they all had seen him chug down about an hour ago when he appeared to have forgotten he was drinking with supernatural creatures with incredible alcohol tolerances. “Tomorrow, we are having a friendsgiving” Stiles declares. He sways a bit too when he says it. 

Isaac is the first one to get the heart to say something, He goes to stand next to Stiles, still carrying his turducken, and throws an arm over the drunken teen’s shoulders. “Stiles” Isaac says slowly, honestly “We aren’t having a friendsgiving….tomorrow”

“Thanksgiving was literally a week ago...” Scott adds, his eyebrows doing that little sagging thing it does when he’s confused by Stiles.

Everyone literally has to turn their gaze randomly to inanimate objects around them when Stiles’ expression falls along with his shoulders and he forlornly places the last of the turkey chicken duck hybrid back into the bin. 

Then he sniffles. 

Derek’s expression of bewilderment and disdain is the first of many to soften and that’s how the pack winds up purchasing seventeen turduckens and bringing them back to a refurbished Hale House to an drunken Allison and Lydia, both of whom had fallen asleep before the impromptu grocery trip. They were both awake now, and incredibly confused by the sheer amount of feast fowl coming through the door.

“Stiles” was the only answer Boyd offers them when he comes through the door carrying three frozen bird hybrids. 

Stiles prances in the door last after everyone carrying the eggs and beams over at the two still very confused girls. "Friendsgiving tomorrow" he says, excited, and then he promptly vomits on the floor of the foyer.

“Erica, where the fuck are the vegetables?!”  
_____________________________

“He looks a little green.”

“He drank so much last night...I’m surprised he’s still breathing”

“How did you let him talk you into seventeen of them though?”

“Shhh, maybe he’ll-”

“M’not forgetting” Stiles rolled over in the bed, trying to open his eyes and cursing at the sudden brightness of the bedroom. It was also really fucking cold around him, which made him think that the whole pack was already awake and out of the bed. "I forget what I'm not forgetting but I'm not forgetting...it..."

'The bed' because there were now literally five beds in the house and yet everyone still seems to think Derek’s king-size one in the master bedroom is the only worthy place to sleep. Truthfully, the only thing that had woken Stiles up was the fact that there wasn’t one of Isaac's “seriously, made of knives dude” elbows buried in his stomach, or Erica’s “Literally endless” amounts of hair in his face.

“Oh god, I feel like shit” Stiles groans then, rolling back off his side and back onto his back. 

“Don’t vomit in my bed please” Derek’s voice came from to his left. Stiles has closed his eyes again and doesn't really feel like reopening them to find the exact locations of the pack around him. 

“Our bed. It’s….probably our bed now” Stiles grumbles, slinging a hand over his eyes because it’s still wayyy too fucking bright in this room. “I’m giving up on drinking. On everything. I’m becoming a nun”

“You said that last time. And then literally tried to join the catholic church. Remember the incident of Father John and the beacon hills catholic church?” That Scott's voice. He sounds...hopeful. They were all talking so fluidly and it was so early in the morning and totally unfair…

“It’s actually not all that early. It’s only noon” Stiles finally, finally, makes it past the stage of vomiting enough to brace the sunlight streaming in and glare at the pack all leaning over him. Literally all of them, even Jackson was here. Wasn’t he on vacation with his dad?

“You are all- Why are you all so active right now...we drank sooo much last night?” 

“werewolf”

“Werewolf”

“Werewolf”

“Werewolves”

“Hunter”

“I don’t get hangovers”

Stiles moaned, rubbing eyes and then pushing his hair hair back out of his face. Fuck the world. Fuck these people- no not literally, well, yes, literally, but not right now. He needed new drinking friends. Human drinking friends. Where the fuck was Danny?

“visiting his grandma”

“He doesn’t realize he says these things out loud, does he?” Came Jackson’s voice to his left. And fuck it, Stiles missed this douchebag.

Stiles literally doesn't care that it is Jackson fucking Whittemore, his high school terror, when he wraps his arms around the former werewolf, former kanima, now currently werewolf and still douchebag, and tugs him back down onto the bed with him. 

“Missed you” Stiles mumbles, still feeling very ill and completely ignoring Jackson’s entirely seethrough-able (he’s hungover, words don’t have to make sense) protests. Stiles just pulls him close and latches himself onto the stiff form made of muscle and...literally more muscle, fuck Jackson and his obsession with exercise.

Stiles is then torn between burying his hands in Jackson’s stupid perfect hair, going back to sleep and going on a spiel about the unfair distribution of hangovers and mixed supernatural ability side effects, and the fact that hangovers were apparently scared of Allison or something, but then he realized…”Why are you all here?”

Erica answers first. Stiles actually bothers to glance at her over Jackson’s head where she's laying half of the bed, half off it, splayed over half of the vast- vast- amount of pillows at the head of the bed next to where Stiles was lying. She looks up at him upside down. “Derek’s made us”

Stiles maybe hung over, but he doesn’t miss the way Isaac (Very indiscrete for a werewolf actually, come on Isaac) leans forward and slaps her across her thigh from where he’s sits next to her head, half turned to her, half turned to stiles. 

“Ow! Rude” Erica yelps, even though there was literally no way that could've hurt.

There is then a kind of tense silence that Stiles, despite being hungover, has pegged as the “maybe he won't remember” silence which prompts him to start going through everything he can remember from the night before because if they’re all in here, it had to have been pretty important…

Let's see...he remembers puking his guts out, but not immediately after drinking, he’d admirably kept that down for quite some time thank you very much. So puking, but what did they do before that...he remembers pizza rolls, and being excited. Being excited for pizza rolls, likely, but not since the grocery store discontinued those special mega pizza rolls...So no... wait! there was!

Stiles literally gasped, and then groaned when his headache decides that is has to reassert itself in his life. “The turduckens…!”

The collective groans of the pack settle that feeling of ‘maybe he won't find out’. 

“Stiles, do we have to-”

“We spent’ Stiles begins, waving a finger at Erica, just because she was closest and had groaned the loudest “We spent...like seventy dollars on that food. We will be having a feast tonight. No Stilinski wastes money like that”

Derek’s grumble of “Wasn’t even your money” is selectively ignored. 

“Now, we will have a friendsgiving tonight” He says “A GOOD HAPPY FRIENDSGIVING” he adds when they all groan again “BECAUSE WE’RE GONNA CELEBRATE FRIENDS AND SHIT. FUCK YOU”

“You’re yelling in my ear, asshat” Jackson mumbles. He sounds sleepy though too, which makes Stiles figure that he’d spent the night driving home last night with his family and then promptly came over here. And it probably takes a whole lot of sleep to maintain a body that 190% muscle mass.

“Now, since all of you seem to be delightfully healthy and hangover free”

Immediate grumbles of protests from those to catch on to his train of thought, but Stiles still continues “ and it is my birthday next week….” quieter collective grumbles “I think it’s safe to put you all in charge of making friendsgiving a thing…”

Seriously, it was like an orchestrated piece with these volumes of grumbles “Jackson and I are going back to sleep because I feel like I might die. I’m gonna sleep of this hangover while you guys do this thing. Because friendship”

It was a poor explanation, but Stiles has this habit of literally falling asleep at the drop of a hat and he does just that as soon as he stops speaking. All the pack just kind of stands there, shifting around, and then Jackson cranes his neck over his shoulder to look at all of them and offer them a half-hearted shrug. “You heard him…”

With nothing really better to do “No Scott, we all know the vet is closed on sundays” they began what would soon become known as “The one time the Hale house almost got burned to the ground again and Stiles wasn’t even directly involved’

\--------

“I know we need all of them, but how are we going to make all of them?” Erica says slowly in the doorway of the kitchen where the eight (Danny came by just after the awakening and subsequent slumber of Stiles) remaining members of the pack stood, looking out at seventeen frozen turduckens, all in different stages of thawing.

Lydia slowly opens her mouth…”I have an idea”

To be fair, they did try more things before this. Only one of the turduckens fit in the oven. Nicely. Thank god Danny lived with his mother for long enough that he knew how to season and cook one of them. He roped Isaac into helping him make the rest of the dinner’s sides and whatnot Stiles had decided to purchase drunkenly last night. (read: force Derek into purchasing. Read: Stole Derek’s credit card because he was a sneaky bastard even to a werewolf and swiped it before Derek could protest).

But all of them knew the rest of the turduckens were the only way they could feed the whole pack mainly composed of werewolves. So despite the presence of mother Danny, and Derek had gone to go get more milk because Isaac and Erica were fucking machines when it came to the stuff, the rest of the pack slowly snuck outside. Snuck outside carrying seventeen turduckens.

In truth, Lydia was sort of proud of it. She was pretty bored too, which was probably why she let things get so far. Currently, back in a clearing behind the Hale house, stood a mountain of sixteen turduckens. Covered in layers of foil. Seriously, why did Derek have so much foil. 

“Lydia. You sure this is going to cook 16 turduckens?” Allison asked, unsure because she had a flaming arrow pointed at a mountain of turduckens, covered in foil and drenched in oil and it seemed like a pretty good question to ask. 

Lydia answers from where she’s recording all of this on her phone. “Mmm, yeah, we’ve got the rock around it and dug up the grass. Should be easy to put out. We’ve got those bins of water. We’re fine.”

Then the top bedroom window of the Hale house slides open and Stiles’ voice comes from it briefly “What the fuck are you guys-’ followed by a surprisingly immasculine shriek“Oh my god, no you guys stop no what the fuck…”The werewolves could hear Stiles’ further swearing from the house and his footsteps as he raced down the stairs.

Allison shrugs and figures that it’s finals week next week, and shoots.

“what the actual fuck you all are in COLLEGE what part of this was a good idea. Lydia, stop taking advantage of the lesser intellects” Stiles runs past Lydia and Allison, still in boxer shorts and a T-shirt with only one shoe on. “Scott, you guys help me put this out before Derek gets home and has an aneurysm”

Everyone seems to collectively remember then why Derek doesn’t have a fireplace in the house and leap into action. 

“Shit...Shit i think I hear his car coming” 

“Aw fuck. Guys come on with you werewolf strength and shit” Stiles commands, gesturing towards the huge bins of ice water. “Just because we’re werewolves does not make this any easier!” Erica growls as she and Boyd heft a rubber-maid full of water onto a flaming pile of foil covered turduckens.

Which is promptly when the giant pile of flaming turducken explodes. Stiles, in all his training a and studies, has never come across something like this. It looks like Lydia feels the same way but on a more scientific level. Both of them move at the same time though, Lydia grabs Allison and yanks her back just as soon as Stiles steps forward and dammit he's still too hungover to be casting spells like this. He's going straight back to his warm bed and latest human Pillow victim, Jackson, as soon as he's sure these idiots aren't going to try something like this again. The fire in the pile recedes, but Stiles is still pissed. He slowly turns to the pack of wolves and hunters, hangover making him just angry enough to...

 

10 minutes later

"It's literally mountain ash. I feel like we're caged" Derek comes home to, stepping slowly from his Camaro and just...staring. 

Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Scott are all about seven feet apart from each other, each entrapped in a mountain ash circle of their own. 

Erica's glaring right now could rival Derek's in all honesty, Boyd's just sitting there with that pissed off look he usually has but he's not actively doing anything for it, Isaac looks pissed but in that attractive sneering way that's totally more cute than it should be, and Scott's trying to do that 'true alpha' thing where he morphs through walls except Stiles' magic is "So much stronger than that pleb emissary/darach magic- Do you know how much I've studied this shit!?". 

Derek’s doesn't bother to help them. He just goes inside with the milk and tries to ignores Erica swearing at him from swearing behind.

The kitchen smells lovely. 

Too lovely.

Like someone's very obviously tampered with something. His suspicions are confirmed when he smells magic. 

Allison and Lydia are sitting in the living room. They're both silent when Derek comes in. Quiet. Too quiet. Is that duct tape? Allison looks like she's already working out of it but if the way the werewolves outside are trapped, Derek's willing to guess that duct tape isn’t the only thing holding those two.

In the kitchen, that's where it all comes to head. Danny's there, scrubbing a pot. Despite the noise from that not being loud at all, AT ALL DANNY, Danny still pretends to not hear him enter.

On the table, is a fully cooked and seasoned turducken. With it is a myriad of mashed potatoes, pies, motherfuckin vegetables ( seriously, where had those come from). It was a feast.

Big enough for exactly one person.

The potatoes were seriously in one of their regular house bowls, as in, there was enough to equate to one they'd of the amount of cereal Erica ate each morning for breakfast, because she refills her bowl at least three times. And the green beans, there's like, six, and they're all weak a and old looking, like they'd found them in the forest perCHANCE instead do of purchasing them. Derek, appalled, turns to look around at the other people not able to be ensnared by wolfsbane for answers. Then Stiles appears in the doorway, with Jackson in-tow, and he literally offers no explanation as to why he has to close the blinds to the large dining room window, cutting off Erica's death glare from outside. 

“Seventeen. They burnt Seventeen turkduckens.” Stiles complains part of the way through their meal, conveniently leaving out how they burnt seventeen turkduckens.

“You made us buy seventeen turkduckens!” come the distant shout from the front yard. 

“ shut up and eat your bird slivers"

Derek, Stiles, Danny and Jackson share a beautifully season Turducken, three green beans, and maybe a tablespoon of mashed potatoes each before Stiles can be convinced to release those being punished and they order pizza. Later, they'll all be sat in various positions on the large couch, finishing off like 20 pizzas, and watching Lilo and Stitch because Stiles whined enough, and Derek will maybe get a little choked up about Stitch towards the end, and Stiles will be the only that notices, and he'll nudge Derek's hand with his own and it'll be all another night with his pack.

And then three days later everyone will get woken up by a very pissed off Derek who marched them all to the back yard and just gestures furiously, at the pile of seventeen turduckens in various stages of being devoured by the numerous amounts of forest creatures scurrying around it. (It seriously took Derek three days to notice).


End file.
